Chapter Text
Ilya had followed the scent through the forest and along the riverbend for days. First catching the sweet honeysuckle and almond mix a week prior, along the narrowest pass of the river to the west of the forest. It caught his attention like a moth to a flame, instant and direct. He followed the sweet scent along the bank of the low, rocky river, felt it lull in spots and almost surrender him to his knees in others. It must be a forager, Ilya thought, or a herbalist of some kind. Omega.
Ilya had the sense to know when he was close to another pack. He could smell the change in scent throughout the air, mixing new alphas and omegas with their more intimate pack details. He also knew when he was close to a new boundary because the smell near repulsed him, so much to the point of having to turn back just to ease his senses. They would smell him too, hunt him away if they caught him marking their borders.
He had returned to his pack soon after that first encounter with the honeysuckle scent, but couldn’t focus on anything else. He tossed and turned in bed that night, dreaming of lush rolling valleys, a faint buzzing sound in his ears, the hills covered with flowers and weeds and - home. Ilya felt the word rush through him, waking him from his restless slumber. That scent was calling, and it was calling him to come home.
So, Ilya made a plan, spread word through his pack that he would be leaving in search for a new homestead. It wasn’t completely untrue, they were badly in need of a new piece of land to call home. Their camp was too small, worn and tattered, too many young pups growing up that they found the numbers overwhelming on the little assets they possessed.
His small group had fled the Russian wilderness in search of a fresh start, too many warring packs and increasing politics for them to feel safe - and they fled to Canada. A similar cold, wilderness, but with a more welcoming feel. He would muddle through the boundaries and borders of the surrounding packs in hopes of finding new land to move them all, maybe even in hopes of a larger pack inviting them in, and if he followed that particular scent along the way, who was to know any difference. So, he began his journey.
The first thing Ilya noticed was the quiet. Not the complete absence of sound - no, the valley was bursting with life. Bees hummed and whizzed through the air, low and steady, thousands of tiny wings threading gold through the air. Grass whispered under the weight of the wind. Long strands intertwined with huge wildflowers, spreading colour in patches throughout the sweeping valley. Somewhere unseen, he could hear the gentle trickle of water as it moved through a slow, patient stream.
But beneath the life thrumming through the valley, bold and bright, there was a stillness to it all. A deep calming hush that settled into his bones.
Ilya hadn’t meant to come this far. The path he set out on had long since disappeared behind him, swallowed by wildflowers and soft, uneven earth. His satchel hung loose at his side, half-open with crushed herbs spilling down to the ground below. His clothes were tattered and bloody, courtesy of the newly rejected beta he had the misfortune of stumbling across. The altercation had been swift but bloody, a mixture of claws and fangs biting at one another - Ilya had won but it had cost him a nice deep gash along his lower stomach. His boots were dusted pale from his travels, exhaustion creeping in along his muscles and slithering along the edges of his mind.
Still, he kept walking because the air smelled like honeysuckle and almond. Like sunlight caught in glass, not cloying or heavy, but light, warm and enveloping. It drew him forward with a gentle pull rather than a command. Ilya had learned a long time ago the difference between instinct that demanded and instinct that invited. This.. invited.
He lowered himself down the hillside and the valley opened all at once. Golden hives dotted along the slope like scattered lanterns, their surfaces worn smooth with time and care. Various weeds and plants spilled between the hives in soft waves of colour, blending together beneath the lazy drift of bees. And settled in the heart of it all, a smattering of cottages and tents spreading wide across the valley floor.
He took one step forward then another, and the world tilted under his feet. It was subtle at first, he didn’t see the black spots dancing though his vision. Too focused on his surroundings, taking deep steadying breaths to fill his lungs. He caught himself against a low wooden fence, fingers curling around the sun-warmed grain. His breath came in short, uneven spurts. The hum of bees seemed to swell around him, threatening closer and closer -
“Hey-” a voice cut through the noise.
Ilya blinked, his vision swirling. He tried to steady himself but the light had become too bright, the valley blurring into a blend of gold and greens as his grip slackened against the wood.
Footsteps approached fast and determined, a whisper over the grass. “Who are you? You shouldn’t be here,” the voice spoke again, closer this time. Not sharp or unkind, but a concerned undertone laced his words.
A hand grazed Ilya’s arm and everything stilled. It was strange how immediate the touch affected him, the spinning slowed and he was able to suck in a long, deep breath -
Ilya turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the man standing less than a foot from him now, hand curled around his arm. Golden light shimmered around his edges, dark hair windswept and wild brown eyes piercing into his own.
“You’re - shit - what happened to you? Your stomach-“ the stranger murmured to him, hands moving to grip his shoulders. “Can you walk?”
Ilya tried to answer the man when the smell hit him. That scent. Ilya was felt like his lungs were suddenly drowning in honeysuckle and almond, the smell wrapping its way around every fiber of him and settling in like home. He was hyper aware of his mouth salivating and his fangs breaching his lips.
“Omega-“ Ilya rumbled. He felt the hands tighten on his shoulders, felt the man go still before he surrendered to the darkness. And for the first time in a long while, he felt safe.
Shane saw the glint in the strangers eyes before they rolled to the back of his head, collapsing to the floor beneath him.
“Fuck-“ Shane didn’t think and surged forward to catch the man, trying to ease his fall.
Omega - what the fuck? Shane thought back to the last word that fell from the man's lips. The rush of heat he felt when the stranger spoke still coursed through his body. He could sense that he was an Alpha.
Shane had smelled him from across the valley floor. He caught the smell of mint mixed with pine and didn’t realize he was moving until he spotted the stranger atop the hill, felt compelled to follow.
For a second all Shane could hear was his breathing coming out too heavy. Too fast and too loud, his heart thundered in his chest. He looked up, pulling in a shaky breath and let the noise of the meadow bring him back to earth. The bees still hummed lazily through the hives, drifting through the warm air.
He looked back down at the unconscious man, head resting in his lap. The stranger's face had gone slack with his unconsciousness. Shane studied his face - long dark curls, pale skin, dark lashes casting shadows over his high cheekbones. He was a vision, even unconscious. There was a smear of blood underneath his jaw, a faint crease between his brows like he’d been holding tension for days on end.
The next thing Shane noticed was the stranger was hot. Fever hot. He felt the raging temperature seep through his pants as his eyes wandered down the man’s body, landing on the bloodied wound poking through his shirt.
“Shit-“ Shane hissed. He pulled the shirt higher, revealing a long jagged wound on his lower stomach. The wound wasn’t actively bleeding but was still raw, looked to be from a fight.
He shifted his grip, sliding one hand carefully beneath the man’s shoulders and the other down to cradle behind his knees. For a fleeting moment, Shane felt a rush of possessiveness roll through his body. Mine. The thought flashed across his mind, an unsettling feeling lodging itself in his stomach. He adjusted his grip before hoisting himself up, the man dangling from his arms. He was huge - bigger than Shane, and packed with muscle. It took more effort than he would have liked to admit.
In his arms, the stranger's head lulled into the crease Shane’s neck, nose brushing lightly off his scent glands. He swore he heard the man suck in a soft breath, nose nuzzling into him for just a second, felt him relax further into Shane’s hold. His stomach was flipping and turning, his senses lighting up and starting to go haywire.
Shane began to move slowly down the slope towards his mothers cottage. At least if he didn’t know what salve to whip up, his mother could help. By the time they reached the door Shane’s arms ached and his breath was uneven again. Shouldering the door open, he manured himself inside ensuring the large man was still safe in his arms before setting him down on the table gently. The smell of dried herbs and wood wrapped around Shane instantly, his mother shooting up from tending the fire.
“Shane - what - who? What is this?” Shane watched Yuna’s eyes widen, shifting between the large bleeding stranger laid out on their table and him.
“He is injured, we need to help him.” Shane said plainly, reaching for the blade and cutting through the man’s shirt. The angry cut was swelling fast. Shane reached for the same bowl of herbs at the same time his mother did. He watched her bring the herbs to the smaller table, adding various flowers and crushing them up before reaching for the jar of moonwater.
They applied the salve to his wound, watching as he shivered under Shane’s touch. He noted the quick rise and fall of his chest, eyes lingering on his muscled physique. Shane suddenly ached to touch the man.
Yuna’s eyes glanced up at Shane, a funny expression crossing her face. She looked away again, focusing on checking the stranger for any other wounds or cuts.
“Alright, that should do until he wakes. You need to stay and watch him, Shane. If he wakes, apply more salve and feed him the moonwater until he is out again.” Yuna said.
He nodded and reached a hand out to press gently against the man’s forehead. He felt a buzz rush through his fingers at the gentle touch, but he didn’t pull away. Yuna left the cottage shortly after, leaving Shane to pull up a chair alongside the table and wait.
“You better not die,” Shane exhaled and stared at the man in awe. Outside, the bees hummed on as if they too agreed. He would not die.
Shane was surrounded by the smell of mint and pine, mingling with a deep smoke. It was intoxicating, and it was everywhere. He could feel it deep in his pores, stretching to every nerve and setting him alight. He wandered through the forest in search for the source and found the stranger sitting by the river. He was better so soon?
Shane moved towards him instinctually, a force beckoning him forward. The man gazed up at him, blue eyes piercing his own. He sat down beside him and inhaled deeply. Home, his Omega purred.
In a flash the stranger had him pinned, but Shane didn’t feel panic, only felt a sense of home and belonging. Strong hands held his own above his head as the stranger crawled on top of him, bracketing Shane’s hips with his muscular thighs.
Shane watched as the man leaned down over him, pressing small light kisses to his cheeks down to his jaw and landing on his neck. Heat flared through Shane, sending his Omega into a frenzy. Alpha, alpha, alpha. He felt a warm tongue slide up the length of his neck, tracing from collarbone to below his ear. Shane’s hips bucked up into the beautiful strangers.
The man above him settled his weight down, hips grinding down onto his own. His neck arched, baring his mating glands and letting the stranger scent him. He felt his nose bury in his neck, teeth grazing his skin and nipping at him softly. He felt the sharp tip of fangs drag slowly along his skin, shivering hard underneath the solid mass on top of him.
Shane lifted his hips at the same time the man beared his own down, erections rubbing against each other. Shane could feel himself straining against his pants and watched the man lift up, dark curls flopping onto his forehead. A wicked smile plastered across his face, all teeth and fangs. He was the most gorgeous Alpha that Shane had ever seen. Shane blushed under the intense gaze.
He felt as the man reached down between him, down under the waistband of Shane’s pants and palmed him hard. Strong fingers gripping his cock and stroking hard and fast. Shane’s head pushed back into the soil, a breathy moan slipping through his lips. The man picked up his pace, finger pressing into the slit and spreading precum around and down the hard length. His pace quickened - faster and faster. Shane was barreling towards the edge of the cliff, stars covering his vision and -
His eyes flashed open, breathing hard in the chair and realized his hand was gripping his fully hard cock while the unconscious man still laid on the table. Fuck. Shane couldn’t stop himself, the smell of charred wood took over his senses again as groaned quietly in the chair quickening his hand. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and came hard in two strokes, his mess spreading down his centre and mixing with the slick he had started to drip.
Shane’s pulse raced, his breathing coming out in short bursts. What the actual fuck.
The man on the table stirred softly, a soft moan falling from his lips, and that’s when Shane noticed the erection standing proud on the stranger. Shane’s eyes bulged at the size of the man’s hard cock through his pants.
What the fuck was happening?